An Old Fashioned Dream
by LillyFair
Summary: A decision was made in the house on the lake that held the fates of three souls. Time moves forward and days go by but very soon it is revealed that no one walked out of that house unscathed. E/C of course.
1. Some Memories are hard to let go

I'm trying to combine aspects Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay, The Musical, and The Movie into one piece of work. This story is a physiological aspect of everyone that was involved in the Phantom's Layer no one is left unscarred. I know that Raoul may appear to be out of character, but in Chapter 4 I explain what happened to him, and why.

It's an older story of mine that had no ending life began to get in the way so hopefully now it can be given a proper ending.

AN OLD FASHIONED DREAM

He stood there watching her from the darkness of the shadows. He knew that she was out of his life, but he had promised himself that after she left he would watch over her, and take care of her like a true angel. For as long as he had breath in his body he would make sure she was safe.

"I suppose she is happy," he muttered sadly into the empty night. He glared at the back of her beautiful blond hair and wished he could reach through the window and touch the cascade of curls that fell to below her waist. Sitting in only her thin chemise he was able to clearly see the sensual curve of her back, the swell of her luscious breasts and her delicateness of her petite waist. His body longed to put his arms around her again; he would give up his life to simply caress the soft skin of her face.

He became jealous of the wooden brush that she held in her small delicate hand as it shuffled through the length of her tresses, evening out knots and tangles that the stress of the day have caused. That brush, an object of so little importance could be so close to his beloved while he was condemned to a life of exile from her.

He held his breath and tightened his grip on the windowpane as he saw as she sprinkled rose water into her hands and began applying the scented perfume under her ear, across her throat, and over the tops of her breasts.

If he lingered outside her window any longer a passionate madness would surly overtake him. There would be no one to stop him from breaking in and claiming her in the luxurious four-poster bed that beckoned him near the wall. The image of a creamy thigh wrapping around his waist, and her cry of pleasure once again invaded his imagination.

The sight of her once again returning to her hair brought him out of his daydream and back to the present.

He had seen her so many times at the opera house brushing her hair with that same distant expression. Was she thinking of her angel, her poor unfortunate Erik, or of that damned boy?

He took one last longing gaze at her seductive form ready to give anything to know what she was thinking at that moment. He knew he could no longer control his desire for her, so he left her to her thoughts and hastily made his way home, to his new home.

Christine looked sharply into the mirror, she thought she had seen a figure lurking within the glass. She quickly turned around at the window and thought she saw a dark figure leap off the weeping willow tree and disappear into the night. If there had been someone at the window, there was no question of who it could have been.

Seeing him, or thinking she saw him almost made her heart jump out of her chest…but why did it jump. She was married to Raoul; she shouldn't be thinking of Erik, let alone hoping that he would be at her window.

"Angel.", she replied softly. A tear slid down her cheek as she thought of her angel. She remembered the countless times she sat at the opera wishing her angel would be watching her, hoping she would secretly catch him watching her brush her hair, or change into whatever costume she was required to wear for the evening.

Even just the thought of her standing naked in front of her angel made her blush. She missed him terribly, she missed his voice, his music, his friendship, his touch.

"His touch!" she said out loud shocked at herself for the thought. "Where did that come from?" Suddenly her mind and her senses went to the memory of that kiss. Their kiss that night; how she was haunted by his kiss.

The way his hands stroked her hair; and the way he caressed her body. The fierce passion in his lips and his tongue, yet the almost musical gentility in his movements made her weak just from the memory and he hadn't even touched her bare skin. An image of Erik's fingers caressing her body, and stroking her innermost area, aroused her senses. She sighed with pleasure of just the thought.

Suddenly, without warning, Raoul shot through her bedroom door. Shocked at his early return, and her infidelity of thought, she leaped herself away from the mirror. She had never been this nervous around Raoul, but something had changed in him; he was not the carefree boy that she had come to love and sometimes it frightened her.

He was changing, they were growing apart, but she didn't know where or when it started. It was as if something horrible was plaguing his mind, haunting him every waking moment. He wouldn't reveal anything to her about it, as if he couldn't trust her. Sometimes he treated her like a common whore rather than a wife. She did not know how to act around him any more. Especially after last time when she asked him what was wrong. She would NEVER make that mistake again.

"What are you doing!" He asked in a harsh voice.

"Nothing", She stammered. It was like he knew what she had just been thinking.

"Just brushing my hair." There was a long pause between them and she noticed that he seemed even more distressed than usual. She couldn't take this awkwardness any longer.

For so many months she was afraid of Erik because she was afraid he might have harmed her, even though she knew too late that he would never lay a finger on her to hurt her. She would not put herself in that same harmful relationship again. She knew she shouldn't ask, but her curious nature would not allow herself to let this go a second time. She would defend herself this time if she had to.

"What is wrong Raoul? I cannot help you, unless I know what is always upsetting you so?", Christine's voice quivered and almost sounded frightened.

"Relax dear wife." He said in his normal calm and soothing voice, "There is no reason why you should be tense."

"I'm not tense I was just going to ask you where you went tonight, that is all." She still was frightened and her voice quivered, but this time Raoul did not notice the fear in her voice. Instead he was looking at Christine with an angry expression.

"I went to the Opera, my love, as if it is any concern of yours."

Christine flinched at his term of endearment, there was malice in his tone, and her fear of him began to rise.  
He sensed her submission and walked behind her, looking at their reflection in her vanity. He started to message her shoulders, then his hands traveled to her face, softly caressing her silky skin.

"Everyone is so beside themselves that you will not be returning this season, and as principal patron I have made it my duty to find a suitable replacement." Christine watched in the mirror as his hands traveled down around her face, around her neck, and then finally inside her chemise. He took in the lovely rose scent that had just been applied to her porcelain skin. He kissed her neck, and gently touched the curve of her breast, feeling the nipple harden under his touch. Just the way it should he thought.

"So, I have been assigned to find someone new to take the place of our most beautiful star L'Comptess de Changy.",

"Raoul!" She said freeing himself from his assault. "You know I would gladly return to the theater. It is you who forbid me to even to speak about returning again. Christine knelt on the ground to plead with him, maybe this was her chance to get back to the Opera house, she missed all of her friends, including Erik.

"Please let me return. We could bring in people by the thousands if only you would…." Suddenly out of nowhere the hands that were just so gentle and arousing, shot out and struck her across the face. Christine stumbled backwards not knowing what to do.

"No…I will never allow that…never. If you use that angelic voice of yours then that will be doing exactly what HE wants you to do, and I never want him to satisfied." He rushed to her and grabbed her by the shoulders roughly to look her straight in the eye, then threw her to the floor.

"Your mine Christine you choose me that unforgettable night and I will have you body, mind, and soul." Christine gently touched her face, feeling the spot already becoming tender.

As the blood rushed to her cheeks, her anger, and diva-like nature she could no longer hold back filled the room. This was anger for being locked up in a beautiful empty castle, anger from being taken away from her friends, and anger from being taken away from music.

"Do you think that you can erase away a major part of my life because you simply wish it? You may want me to forget him, you may demand it, but let me tell you something Raoul, I cannot do that."

"You may control my life, you can forbid me to sing at the Opera, or even to go out myself in public, but you cannot control my mind, or my heart, you can't lay a finger on it. No matter what you do say to discredit him there will always be a place for him in my heart. He was my friend when I had no one, he was someone I turned to, and who listened to me, when no one else would.

"No I have not forgotten he was someone I feared, or someone that murdered. I married you, I chose you, and you cannot just have me erase him from my memory, and that is something that you are going to just have to accept."

Raoul stood there astonished at her words several of them which struck him to the core. She was right, she did choose him, it was Raoul's ring that shone on her finger not Erik's. He ran to her and cradled her in his arms for several moments, he cried with her begging him over and over again to forgive him.

"I'm so sorry my love. I'm so sorry" He picked her up off the floor and gently placed her on their bed. The soft satin comforter felt so good next her fresh bruises. This needed to stop, she didn't know how much more she could take. He seemed to get worse by the day.

Raoul sat her up before him, and ever so gently kissed the cheek that just moments before he had slapped. A fresh tear slipped down his face, as he looked at the flesh turn all shades of red, blue, and green. He kissed her swollen lips, and then trailed sweet kisses down her neck. Gracefully and quickly he grabbed her chemise and lifted it over her head, reveling in the body of his beautiful wife.

He trailed his kisses down her throat, and smiled to himself when he heard her gasp as he took her ripe hardened nipple into his mouth. Christine arched her back at his touch, not really in the moment because her body still stung from the bruises he had just given her, but he was her husband, she had to please him, it was her wifely duty, even if he had been cruel.

As Raoul moved to her other breast, she helped him remove his shirt, then his pants. In no time at all they appeared to be like lovers, but as with most things, you cannot judge by appearances.

When Raoul entered her, he felt pride at claiming her, he was sure he could satisfy her much better than Erik ever could. Erik! The thought of her in his arms that night angered him to no end. He had seen her pleasure at his touch, and at his kiss. It had been too much for him to bear, but he had to endure it, he could do nothing else. With nothing but hatred in his heart for his rival his tender caresses suddenly became rough and angry; his last thrust was simply too much for her to bear.

"Raoul! Raoul!" Christine panted. "You're hurting me. Please stop."

"You are mine Christine, when will you come to to terms with that." His arms were held tight around her wrist, and he had just thrust his full weight into her. Her eyes were full of tears, and her wrists were bleeding from his fingernails.

He let go of her and rolled to his side of the bed without a word of an apology. He then tried to hold her in his arms and soothe her tears, but she rolled out of his reach and cried into her pillow.

She couldn't help but wonder if Erik would have been angry and painful when making love, or would he have been the angel that he had always been. The thought of her body wrapped around Erik, and his gentle caress was her last thought until sleep finally claimed her.


	2. The Loss of Something Special

_The Loss of Something Special_

The wine glass shattered into a thousand tiny pieces and the remaining wine fell onto the blazing fire enhancing the flames until it looked like an entrance into the underworld. The Persian, who had stopped by for the routine visit of his friend just glared at him.

"You might as well forget it Erik, you are never going to find it. Maybe it was for the best anyway. You could start fresh with no attachments to your past." Erik looked at his friend his eyes blazing in the darkened room. Most of the candles had gone out hours before leaving the roaring fire the only light to illuminate the room.

"Perhaps you should leave dear friend, before I loose all care for your well being."

"You couldn't let me die in your torture chamber with that boy and you wouldn't harm me now." Erik grabbed the Persian's coat that had been carelessly thrown on the floor during the search and gracefully handed it too him.

"I came very close my friend, undeniably close." The Persian noted the malice in his voice at took his coat from him knowing he should leave him alone.

"Ay…that you did…that you did indeed. On that note I shall take me leave." He dropped his casual tone and looked seriously at Erik.

"Take my advice Erik, as hard as it will be, leave her alone, there is no need to cause her extra unnecessary grief."

"Why? Is she all right?" asked Erik impatiently.

"I know only what I see dear friend, and I cannot see very clearly at all these days. Adieu mon ami. I hope you find it. I hope you gain peace."

Erik remained silent as he watched his friend leave from the window. He was right of course he would never harm him; but sometimes the presence of his friend was more trying that he wanted to deal with. As soon as the Persian left he started his search with a renewed fury.

He threw pillows, upturned cushions, knocked over chairs and tables and threw burnt out candles and countless other items of unimportance around the disheveled room.

He completely turned his home upside down looking for the lost item. Nothing else mattered to him; he would break every window or burn the entire estate to the ground just to find her ring.

He chuckled to himself at the thought of his home. His estate, he never thought it possible. Well before he had made off with Christine in front of the audience, he had asked Jules to purchase a home for him and his "wife". Something that she would be honored to live in, but yet something that was also far enough away and secluded that they would have their privacy.

Jules found the perfect place; a well-sized estate was abandoned just a twenty-minute carriage ride away from Paris. As soon as Erik saw it, he knew it would perfect for her. He had Jules make the purchase under an assumed name, for the title of the deed could not actually say O.G. Then Erik, through Jules had commissioned the repairs and restoration.

The estate, while not as grand as the Chagny estate was well off for a newly married couple, the river was slightly diverted to empty in a lake in the back of the house, then it emptied back into the river. Whoever had built this house had wanted elegance and privacy.

He had often dreamed of making love to Christine under the stars, or as mundane as it was to simply hold in the boat under the moonlight. Everything was set for her, it was perfect and it was all for nothing. After she ran off with Raoul, he had nowhere else to go. He couldn't exactly stay at the Opera House any longer, so he just moved in. Jules purchased everything that was needed; he was instructed to fill every room except one.

One room belonged to her, even though he knew she would never see it. He painted a portrait of her in the wedding gown and hung it above the mantle-piece. Under the cover of night he moved all the furniture from the Louis-Phillip room, all of her dresses that she had left behind, a hand mirror, and a hair ribbon. He put everything in its proper place, and always brought fresh roses into the room. It somehow made him feel closer to her, even though he would never again see her.  
Erik snapped out of his trance and returned to the chaos of the drawing room. He sat down in despair and looked directly into the flames of the fire.

"Oh Christine…Why did you have to choose that damned boy? He took off his mask and stared off into the flames, secretly hoping that they would consume him and the entire place. His thoughts drifted back to that night; the last time he saw her, the last time he was able to hold her.

Flashback

Raoul and the Persian were in the next room recovering after being rescued by Erik in the sinking torture Chamber. Christine and Erik were left alone in the Louis- Philippe room to say goodbye.

She had an unreadable expression on her face; she really didn't know what she was feeling herself. She loved Raoul of that she was sure; she had loved him since she was a 12 years old who had seen the silly boy jump into the sea for her red scarf.

Erik, her angel, threw everything in disorder, he was her angel of course, her friend, but there was something else there too. If only she could split herself in half and be with both men, but alas she could only truly belong to one.

She didn't want to hurt Erik; she knew her leaving would leave him brokenhearted, and that thought of that made her tears start to fall.

"I'm sorry Erik. I wish with all my heart things could have been different between us." Her tears glistened in the dim candlelight as it flowed gracefully down her face. Erik wiped away the tears from her face with his thumb, gently caressing her cheek, and looked what he had reduced her to.

"My dearest Christine. I will always love you. I don't blame you for what has happened. It is no ones fault but my own, you made me see that. It has been the deformity of my face that set me apart from the rest of the world, but it is in my soul that I am truly deformed" Christine shuttered at the words she had yelled to him just moments before. His soul wasn't deformed, it was gentle and kind, he had shown her that on countless occasions, but she could not say or do anything but cry.

" I can't blame you for wanting to be happy Christine. That is all I ever wanted for you." He looked directly into her eyes, as she returned his glare. Knowingly or not she slowly drew closer to Erik and looked deep into those flaming eyes.

In response to her movement he put her hands around her waist, and his heart almost stopped when he felt her lips close over his. She was intoxicating; she tasted of a sweetness that he had never known before. He had never kissed a woman, but he had full knowledge of what desire was, and he had imagined her in his arms so many times that he got lost in his thoughts and slowly urged her lips to part with his tongue.

He was pleasantly surprised when she touched his tongue with her own, and seemed to have a passion that matched his own, but it probably was his imagination playing tricks with his senses. His hands slowly moved up and down her back, reveling in the feel of her hair and her body. He held her close, and tearfully whispered to her.

"Thank you Angel. I love you and I always will." He pushed her away because he was finding it hard not to take her right here and now.

"Whenever and wherever you sing I will always be there even though I may not appear to be, I promise you I will always be there." At that particular moment Raoul entered the room or at least made his presence known.

"We must hurry," replied Raoul, "we really must leave." Erik turned away from them. Christine wanted to say something, but before she could manage anything Erik's voice broke the silence.

"Go! Go now and leave me!" Christine, feeling even worse than she did before she came to say goodbye turned from him and left with Raoul. As soon as she left Erik sat down in his chair and let go of his tears. He felt so lonely and heartbroken, that he did not see or hear Christine re-enter the room.

Christine whose eyes were also red and swollen from crying entered the room. She paused for a moment to simply look at him. She looked down at her hands in sorrow she had made her choice why wasn't she happy.

Her eyes immediately fell toward the ring that Erik had given her onstage. The ring was perfect; it was not too big or distasteful, and its artistic beauty shown into the darkness. She retrieved the ring from her finger and just held it, her fast flowing tears falling directly upon the stones allowing the romantic candlelight to enhance the exquisite quality of the ring's perfection.

"E. . .Erik!" she cried. At the sound of her voice Erik tried desperately to compose himself, he didn't want Christine to think of him like this but despite his attempts they proved useless.

"I know you gave this to me but I want you to have it. I...I, do not deserve to have it. She placed the ring gently into his hand and closed his fingers around it.  
He stared at his closed palm. She would never know of the countless hours he spent searching for the perfect quality and design one in which corresponded exactly with her personality and delicate body.

He made sure she did not regret her decision then took her ring and placed it on his finger. She rushed into his arms and kissed him one last time. She loved the feel of his touch and suddenly wanted to be closer to him. She wrapped her arms around him almost afraid to let him go, this moment belonged to him, and him alone.

He secured his hand in her hair and bent her backward over his arm moving his lips from her face, down her throat and across her collarbone. She moaned in response to his ferocity and threaded her fingers through his soft hair. Her fingers sild down front of his chest unconsciously popping the few buttons open, allowing her access to his skin; she couldn't help but notice how muscular he was.

He wanted to capture that moment for as long as he could, he was shocked to say the least but he wouldn't argue with holding her one last time. He knew he had to let her go, so when the kiss ended he made no further move to touch her.

"Please do not forget me." She replied wiping the tears from her eyes. When he saw Christine exit through the threshold he called after her silently in his soft gentle voice.

"Oh Christine…I could never forget you, my love, even if I lived over a thousand years, you would always be in my heart."

End Flashback

A soft and silent tear slid down the deformed side of Erik's face as he sat alone in the empty house, thinking about the memory of his beloved. The fire had long died out and there was a chill in the air from the upcoming winter but he took no notice.

He got up from the floor; gave one last glance around the room to see if by some miracle the ring appeared but it was nowhere in sight. He poured himself a brandy laced with his trusty opium, and headed up the stairs to sleep in her room tonight. He hoped his dreams tonight would be merciful, for his life certainly was not.


	3. Lost but not Forgotten

_Lost but not Forgotten_

Christine awoke bathed in sunlight to discover that her husband had already left for the day. She rolled over in her bed, the aches and pains from the night before returning to her afresh.

"Oh Raoul, why are you so angry?" She slowly got up out of her bed, and looked at the marks on her wrists. He never used to be so violent. The holiday away after their wedding was extremely satisfying on several different levels. They had traveled across Europe to try to erase the painful memories, and make new ones.

It was very difficult for them both to move on with their lives. He had been the knight in shining armor, but after their ordeal the knight's armor became rigid and rusted. They had both lost people who were very close to them. Raoul had been extremely close to his brother Philippe, and she of course had missed her angel. How could she talk to her husband about her loss when the very person who killed Philippe was Erik? That had put great distance between them at first.

Even the night that Raoul made her a woman, there had been distance. She was so nervous and excited at the same time, and he really seemed to have desire for her, but it was hard for her to imagine making love to someone that she had played with as a child. It was eating away at her very soul, the very reason she loved him was the same reason that she was also shy around him. He was gentle tender, and caring, but something was missing.

If only she could help him through his grief and anger instead of being the brunt of it before he did her serious harm. She knew he didn't hurt her on purpose, but she didn't know how she could reach him. Apparently making love didn't even reach him.

She walked up to the mirror to examine the bruises on her face, the reflection in the mirror nearly caused her to faint at the sight. He had struck her harder than she had realized and her battered face showed it. It was only when she began to conceal her bruises with some left over stage make- up that Erik's deformity came to mind causing a tear to slide down her bruised face. How many times he must have looked in mirrors and wished that some form of cover up, or stage theatrics could hide what lie beneath the mask.

Hiding, that is what she was doing with Raoul; she was hiding her true nature under a façade of innocence. She was a woman of passion and desire; she was a woman of the theatre, someone who lived for the music and applause. She was not the stereotypical Vicomtesse, she just did not fit into his world, and Erik knew that it would happen. She began to cry, not out of physical pain, but of the pain in her heart.

"Oh Erik, I have destroyed you both." She leaned forward and let her tears fall feeling just as lost as when she wandered the Perros looking for her father's grave.

It was as if the real Angel of Music herself heard the girl cry and sent her a sign of hope. The sunlight had hit something on the windowsill and sent it's sparkling light into the mirrors smooth glass.

She turned toward the window and there she saw its radiance again. She opened the window extremely cautiously in fear of sliding it off the ledge. Finally, with much patience, her slender fingers finally were able to get hold of it and pull it inside. She stared for several moments at the ring that she had rescued from outside.  
Erik had been there last night the ring proved it; she had not just imagined him like she originally had thought.

She prayed to God, that he did not witness what happened to her last night. Of course if he really had witnessed what when on, he probably would have crashed through the window as soon as Raoul had struck her. He had once threatened a stagehand because she had tripped over a floorboard he had left out. Fortunately fo him she knew it was only a threat.

Her seemingly never-ending tears slid down her face as she stared into the heart of the diamonds, somehow wishing it would be a gateway to Erik so she could call to him. Him just being there last night was a sign to her that he knew her heart was troubled, somehow he had always known what was in her heart.

"Oh Erik! What have I done!"

Without notice Raoul burst in through the door carrying a dozen long-stemmed red roses. Christine looked frantically around for some place to hide the ring God knows what Raoul would do if he found out she had it. Raoul placed the roses on her vanity table and knelt down before her taking her hands in his own.

"Oh my darling angel!" She flinched inwardly at that term of endearment; only one man could ever truly call her that.

"Look at what I have done to you." He pulled her into a strong and comforting embrace and looked into her eyes apologetically.

"I want to make amends for my cruel behavior last evening, I have not been myself lately, the stress of my family, and the business, and of course the Opera but there is no excuse for my behavior." He meant to make everything up to her with all his heart.

"You mean everything to me. I know that this transition has not been easy for you and to make amends I have talked to the managers into letting you sing tonight's performance of Faust."

Christine felt elated at his words, if she couldn't be with Erik in life, she can still reach his heart through music. She felt the old rush and admiration once again return for her husband. Whatever has been troubling his mind might be beginning to lift and they can live a normal life. If only things could be the way they were before.  
"Raoul, this is wonderful, I shall be on the stage once again. There are so many ways that I can improve, and to see Meg, and Madame Giry every day again. Oh Raoul!" She threw herself into his arms and he welcomed her. The sparkle that had left her eyes months ago returned full force; even though she was badly bruised she looked radiant.

Raoul was glad that he was able to please her, she meant so much to him, but he couldn't let her to return to the stage for a permanent basis, his status as vicomte, and a soon to be Comte, wouldn't allow it; more importantly he couldn't take giving him access to her again. He looked at her positively glowing face as she gathered her things. Her face, what had he done to her face; the realization that Erik would never have hurt her despite how angry he got began to torture him. Erik would kill anyone that got in her way, but he would never have laid a finger on her.

He didn't have the heart to tell her, but he knew he had to.

"Christine. I'm sorry love but it is only for tonight, for you are still my wife and a part of the social circle, but for tonight I will make an exception."

A somewhat sinking feeling came over her at the mention of a one-night only performance, but right now one night was better than nothing. Christine, ignoring all of her bruises only hesitated slightly when she was covering up her face. She secretly wondered if Erik would actually be there. He said he would always be there when she sang, but she wasn't sure if that was just a metaphorical phrase. Suddenly she became saddened; there was no way he could know that she would be singing so he would not be there, he could not possibly know.

"Hurry Christine, for the rest of the cast is waiting."

Christine gathered her things together and they left for the theater.

After she had arrived Meg ran up to her like she hadn't seen her in six years instead of six months and was as inquisitive as ever.

"Christine you have got to tell me all about what married life is like." She stopped and just stared at her face.

"Oh my God what on earth happened to you're face! "

"It's nothing." Answered Raoul. "We were walking in the park after a storm and she slipped and fell down the hill. Meg looked at Christine with a disbelieving stare but in the presence of her husband just looked to the ground and nodded.

"Do not worry Meg I'll be fine a little more make up and I will look same as always." Meg once again became very excited at the prospect of having her almost sister home. Even though her mother told her it would only be a one-night event she was still happy to have her there.

"We gave you Carlotta's old dressing room for your things, wait until you see it, it's huge, you won't know what to do will all of your free space." Noting the time she knew she had to go.

"Oh I have to go, Maman will scold me if I am late again. It is really good to have you back; things just were not the same without you. "

"I'll talk to you later Meg." She shouted down the hall. Christine bid Adieu to Raoul, who had to make sure there were no hidden passages in this room, and then closed the door and changed into her costume.

"Tonight is for you my Angel, wherever you are."

From the moment Christine stepped onto the stage the audience adored her. Her voice rang through the air like a crystal bell, touching the hearts of all who were privileged to see her. Once again she had given up her soul to him and he knew it.

One lonely dark figure lurked in old forgotten shadows. He found that to his surprise, he actually missed torturing the managers. He had seen them walking about and thought to himself that they looked too relaxed; they were more entertaining when they were nervous about the Opera Ghost.

Erik looked out from box five; the fact that it still had not been sold amused him greatly. However all thoughts of the managers, the opera house, and the old memories disappeared when his angel graced the stage.

Six months of silence, six months of being away from him, and he still found he owned her soul. Even from where he sat he could hear her breathing, the quickened pound of her heartbeat, he could feel the heat from the lights, and the strain of singing; when she sang it was almost as if they were one being. It was as if they had been lovers all of their lives being in tune with each other's thoughts and senses at the height of pleasure seeking release and shelter in each other; a melding of souls. He lifted her up and let her shine. Her radiance was not lost on him as he held her, cradled her, and caressed her through the music.

This moment, this moment was something that husband of hers could never take from them, they would forever be joined even if would only be in music. He was the only one who was able to understand and speak directly with her soul.

The audience gave her a standing ovation as Christine took her final bow on stage. Her entire body was aflame, the music had taken her to new heights that made even the greatest passion she had shared with Raoul pale in comparison. She was lifted up on a wave of pleasure as she dove deeper into the music. She had never experienced such a raw craving in all her years onstage; she knew he was there, or at least she imagined that he was there. When she sang for him she bestowed on him her soul. She became the music; she melded with it and it took her over the flames of desire; he was there and for an instant they were one.

She received another dozen roses from Raoul that were as beautiful as ever, as well as many others from the cast and Meg and her mother. At the closing of the curtain Christine headed toward her dressing room and met Meg on the way.

"Christine your voice was just wonderful tonight. I can't help but marvel at your skill. You're voice has gotten better over the past few months despite the fact that you've been away from the theater." Christine blushed from the compliments she still was not down from her euphoric state, but she still could not take compliments very well.

"Thank you Meg, but it was not flawless." There are so many things that I haven't learned and need to learn. Unfortunately I will never learn them on my own, and I no longer can be taught."

"You really miss the Phantom don't you!" Chrisitine was surprised at her friend perceptiveness; she never used to be that insightful.

"I saw your face scanning the audience, and when you looked up at box five, you delved even deeper into song. I had only assumed that you were looking for him."

"Yes Meg, I do miss him, ever since I left him I have longed to hear his voice call my name. I know it is wrong, and I know its selfish but he fulfilled my every dream and I cast him aside in my ignorance; now I realize that some dreams are just not meant to come true."

Meg had a slight smile on her face and then quickly embraced her friend.

"Do not worry my friend I'm sure everything you wish for will come true very soon. I must go for the moment but I will catch up with you later at the party."  
"All right thanks Meg."

When she entered her room there were even more flowers for her but they all seemed to fade away because there on a table next to her mirror was a single white rose tied with a black ribbon in a crystal vase. As soon as she placed her eyes on the gift she almost dropped the red roses she was carrying for she knew he had been there. Next to the rose was a note sealed with red wax; obviously Raoul had not known about all of Erik's secretes.

My exquisite angel,

Your voice tonight was the most beautiful I have ever heard it, I am proud to see that your absence did not hinder you in the least. You and the music became one tonight and made not only the angels, but also all of heaven weep. Once again your beauty strikes me to the heart and makes me weak. You are so enchanting. Tonight, I leave not a red rose, but a white rose of purity for a woman with the voice, body and soul of an angel. I know that I cannot be much more to you than a mere memory but you will forever live on in my mind and in my heart.

Eternally yours,

Your poor unfortunate Erik

Christine held the letter to her heart; it was almost as if he was in the room with her. As she re-read the letter she could almost hear his sensuous seductive voice caress her ear, and feel his finger graze her burning skin. He was the only one that could sedate the raging fire that was burning in her body. She picked up the rose and caressed her face enjoying the feel of the cool petals against her skin. Erik; how she wanted to feel his commanding lips touch her again.

"You are right Meg dreams can come true." Christine walked in front of the mirror and turned her back toward the door.

"Erik, you will always be so much more to me than mere memory."

An angry voice came from behind her; she was so lost in her thoughts that she did not even notice.

"So once again you have given yourself to that monster."

Christine's turned around to face the intruder; her face became as pale as death while looking into the eyes of Raoul.


	4. In the depts of every soul lies fury

_In the depths of every soul lies fury_

Raoul had always been divided when it came to Christine's career on stage, part of him wanted to stand up and shout that's wife isn't she wonderful, but the other part wanted to conceal her voice and her past from the world, because of the notorious reputation of stage women.

The past couple months she looked as if she had been dying on the inside, but now she looked alive and ready to triumph over the world. Maybe she just needed this, after all he had taken her out of everything she had ever known and thrown her into an existence of which she knew nothing.

As he watched from the manager's box, he observed her empty her heart into the music, but it appeared to be more than her heart. He couldn't explain the feeling that overcame him while he watched her. It almost was if she was in the middle of a passionate encounter in which he was an intruder, but that was crazy that was impossible. It was at that moment that he realized he didn't even know his wife intimately. Sure they had engaged in lovemaking but that was only a small portion of real intimacy. He knew nothing of her thoughts, ideas, joys and fears she was but a stranger to him. They had a childhood history but he knew little or nothing of her adult life.

During her standing ovation he decided he was going to get to know his wife, as a lover, as a woman, but most importantly as a person. They would start out fresh and finally put all those atrocious memories behind them, even the ones that he himself have caused.

He grabbed his cloak and seemed to almost fly to her dressing room. He felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, it was time let Philippe rest in peace and to start to live the life that he had always promised her. He would do anything necessary to make her understand how much he loves her.  
He knocked on the door but didn't hear any response, so he slowly opened the door.

He saw her staring with longing at the mirror while reading a note. She put her hand to the mirror and stroke the glass, and he shuttered at her words.

"Erik, you will always be so much more to me than mere memory."

Why had he even bothered to "rescue" her from him in the first place, she would run right back to him in a second if she knew where he was. This was too much for his mind to comprehend; his wife didn't love him, she never had and this proved it. He had to confront her, there was no other choice, he had to find out the truth.

"So once again you have given yourself to that monster."

"Raoul!" His name came out in a whisper. She could scarcely breath. All of her strength had been knocked out of her at his arrival;. His strong footsteps that echoed through the room reminded her of his fragile state of mind.

"Perhaps you would once again like to steel into the night with your brilliant maestro." Raoul's anger was boiling along with his temper, if he could just keep control but his mind, his mind would not allow him to focus on anything but his rival and his wife.

"Raoul please! You don't understand!" She slowly backed away from him, she felt like Desdemona fleeing Othello as he neared her. Unconsciously she grabbed Erik's rose and held it in front of her to shield her from his anger which probably wasn't one of her smartest ideas.

"Well, well, well, look at this a white rose tied with a black ribbon, he was pleased with you once again. You know what amazes me Christine, you haven't sung a note in over six months, yet you walk onstage and instead of appearing out of practice, it appears that you have only improved; almost as if you had a private instructor."

Raoul came closer to her and grabbed her by the shoulders to face him. Taking her by surprise she dropped the vase and watched the crystal pieces shatter to the floor.

"Tell me Christine, have you been seeing him behind my back." Christine looked at him in fear and surprise at what he was accusing her of.

"No! Raoul I have been with you every waking moment, how can you accuse me of that? Read his note if you don't believe me, I have not seen him since you carried me away." Raoul walked away from her and read the note. As he read his note his heart leaped for joy he was telling the truth. She hadn't betrayed him; she had been heavenly true.

Christine left Raoul, who was reading the letter over and over almost trying to burn the words to his memory, and changed out of her costume.  
When she had put on her normal clothes she knelt to the floor to try to save the rose and whatever was left of the vase but it was as if fate was against her; for Erik's ring fell out of her dress and landed directly at Raoul's feet.

Christine looked up with an expression of terror as Raoul slowly picked it up; she tried to explain how she received the ring but it didn't matter the little control he had of his mind finally snapped.

"This is Erik's ring is it not! Tell me how you got it." He kept repeating those words over and over. She watched his eyes gloss over, she knew he didn't know what he was doing, but she couldn't defend herself, he started to shake her so violently that she could not do anything but scream.

At the sound of her high-pitched scream Raoul was jolted back to reality, unfortunately the shock made him throw her backwards directly into the mirror. She crashed into the mirror her head causing the glass to shatter. Her eyes stared straight forward and closed before she fell to the ground causing the shattered pieces of crystal and glass to pierce her delicate ivory skin.

Raoul collapsed at the floor to look at her lifeless bleeding body on the floor, and he began to shake as so many emotions ran through him at once. He couldn't have killed her, he didn't mean to.

"Christine…no" He tried to pull out some of the glass, but it was just causing her to bleed even more.

He still held Erik's ring in his hand, its brilliant sparkle began to mock him as if to say that he had rescued her from a monster only to be given to another and now she is dead.

Tears fell from his face how had he allowed his mind to fall so far, how could it have been possible. Only a year before he had been carefree begging his brother to let him marry Christine. When did he turn, when did he become nothing more than the creature he vowed to hate?

Sitting next to his bleeding wife, his tormented mind returned to when it had all begun.

Flashback

" We must hurry", replied Raoul, "We really must leave." Raoul tried to listen to what Erik said but the sound was so muffled that he couldn't make it out. His first priority was Christine, he wanted to take her as far away from Erik as he possibly could.

After being with Erik in his house he realized that his emotions and feelings were far too unstable, he could change his mind and refuse to let them leave at any moment. Why the Persian wanted to stay with him was totally beyond him.

As if it was to obey his wish Christine slowly but reluctantly turned toward Raoul and walked toward the exit. The moment she stepped toward him he grabbed her arm tightly causing Christine to gasp with pain. When they were safely out of Erik's house and on the shore of the lake, he pulled her close.

"I'm so sorry Christine I just want to leave and get out of here as fast as we can."

"Why are you in such a hurry to leave Raoul?" Raoul just stared at her in disbelief, he couldn't believe that she was saying this to him, he nearly drowned in a torture chamber and watched his future wife in the arms of another man, and she wanted to know why he was in a hurry to leave.

"Why am I in . . ."Raoul lowered his voice just in case Erik would overhear them.

"Christine, my love, how can you be so calm about all of this. You know as well as anyone how that monster is. After what he has done tonight you know that he is beyond the edge of reason." Christine turned to Raoul in anger not knowing from where it came.

"You know absolutely nothing of Erik. Erik is the most kind and gentle person I have ever met. How dare you even think that he is insane? Erik is and has been a good man and a good friend. I will never think anything otherwise." Raoul realized that Christine, being through a heavy ordeal herself, was not thinking very rationally at the moment, so he did the only thing he was able to do; he again took her into his arms.

" Christine, I never meant to hurt your feelings. I know Erik has been your friend for a very long time but I can't help being jealous of that. I have never been sure of anything in my life but I am sure of my love for you. That is why I can't stand you being close to any other man besides me. No one has been secure in my life but I want you to be. I will not rest until you are hopelessly and completely mine."

"I love you Raoul and I always will no one will ever change that. After we leave here together I will belong to you for the rest of my life but I can't erase the past because you can't handle it. Christine slid her arms down his chest and raised herself to kiss him, but before she did she noticed that she still wore Erik's ring.  
"Raoul, before we leave there is one more thing I must do here first." Raoul was curious and at the same time angry.

"Christine what the bloody hell must you do now!" Christine was already by the door that led to Erik's home.

"I must go to Erik one last time."

"No, Christine! Please, at least let me come with you!" Christine motioned for him to stay there.

"No Raoul, this is something that I must do alone." With that she disappeared into the house leaving Raoul baffled, angry, and curious before he decided to follow her.

"I am sorry, my love, but I just can not trust your good friend Erik."

Raoul stood in the shadow of the doorway and watched Erik and Christine. He watched Christine give back Erik's ring to him. Then he saw her throw herself into Erik's arms and engage in an embrace that was so much more than a goodbye. Raoul couldn't bear the first kiss and that had only been to save his life, or so he had thought, now it looked as if she really did love him.

He could not watch any longer; he left them and returned to the shore of the lake, contemplating weather he should leave her or not. Christine arrived moments later her eyes full of tears.

"I am ready to go Raoul,"

"Good!" Raoul took hold of Christine's arm. This time when he heard her startled cry he did not relinquish his hold upon her.

End Flashback  
Raoul's mind returned to the present, where he sat next to his bleeding wife.

"Well Philippe it appears you were right, marrying her did cause me nothing but heartache. That monster has taken you from me, and now he has taken her. He shall not go unpunished." Raoul gathered Christine's body treating it as if she were a sacred temple. He cleaned up the glass and the blood, and prepared to carry her out into the night unnoticed. Dismissing the carriage driver for the evening, he drove the carriage himself to carry out his mission.

"Well my dear, you may not have known what happened to Erik, but fortunately for me I do."

Raoul had known for months where Erik had been. Being in a social circle where everyone knows everything about one another has its advantage. The big mystery was that the old abandoned estate outside of Paris had been purchased, renovated, and lived in but no one had ever seen the owner. It was only when a friend's severant's daughter had seen him and spoke of a white mask did he decide to find out the truth.

With a few coins to the servants of the house he found out all the information that was needed. They told him that their master was never seen, and that they were employed and paid by a man named Jules. Raoul was sure that the owner had been Erik, there was no mistaking it.

Erik didn't appear to be doing any harm, so he left him alone. If he would have killed Erik, surely Christine would have found out about it, and it would have caused her pain. As much as he had hated him, he didn't want to hurt her.

Now he has killed her, and that knowledge brought fresh tears to the young man's face.

"Erik will pay for destroying our lives."

"Well my dear Christine since the romantic demon loves you so much he shall finally have you, but not in the way he would have chosen."

Raoul parked the carriage a good distance away from the house and carried her body on foot. He had to put her someplace where Erik would truly find her, and that's when he saw the rose garden, the perfect place for her. The bushes were dead because of the upcoming winter and some of them were covered. He laid her body in the midst of them.

"I'm sorry my love, it is I who has betrayed you by my anger. I have been angry with him for so long that I took my anger out on you, the one person that meant more to me than life itself, but fear not. Wherever you are angel, I will get even with him; bringing him your body is just the beginning. I will make right by avenging your death.

Raoul took out Erik's ring and placed it upon her finger, then he fired a gunshot into the air and vanished into the night as the first snow of winter began to fall.

Erik flew out of his house Punjab Lasso in hand and ran toward the direction of the sound, when he got to the garden he stopped and nearly collapsed when he saw her body.

"Christine! Oh my God! Christine! Erik flew to her side and tried to help her. The snow that started to fall landed on her body and instantly became saturated in the warm liquid. Her body was once again bleeding; he could not see her breath in the cold, nor feel warmth in her body.

"Oh Christine, you are now one with God's angels. He bent over her and tenderly kissed her bloodstained lips but stopped when he felt warm in them, she was not gone, not just yet.

"Whoever left you here to die will pay dearly with their life." He gently lifted her from the rose bushes and felt her stir in his arms. She looked up into his eyes startled by the warmth of his arms; she thought she was dreaming.

"Dare I dream, can it be my Erik, my love." That was all she managed to say before she again lost consciousness.

She must be delirious thought Erik and he carried her into his house and up to her room determined to keep this angel on earth with him.


	5. The Tortures of Old Feelings

_The Tortures of Old Feelings_

Erik quickly carried her limp body up the stairs and kicked open the door with his foot; he couldn't loose her, he just couldn't. Her body was very cold but he could not tell if it was because her life was fading, or if it was because she was outside in the snow for an unknown amount of time.

Laying her on the floor near the fireplace, he realized how cold his home actually was; he had to change that, he had to get her warm. With a force, which had to come from the depths of hell, he threw wood from the wood basket into the fireplace and set it ablaze. Then he ran outside to the well, filled a bucket of water and set it to boil above the flames in her room.

He reverently knelt down next to her body to examine her wounds. Her gown was covered with her blood; he looked at his own shirt and noticed it had a bloodstained impression from where her head had once been when he carried her up the stairs. He had to clean her wounds and which would require the removal of her gown.

"To hell with modesty my dear." He didn't have the time to fumble with the laces, nor the endless yards of fabric of her lavish gown. He simply took a knife from his boot and cut the gown completely in half, then he removed the saturated material from her limp body.

Under normal circumstances he would have loved to gaze at her graceful form, but there was no time; he had to start cleaning her wounds before an infection would set in. He tore his shirt and used the boiling water to start to clean her wounds. Hopefully she would stay unconscious during this process because the pain would defiantly be intolerable.

As he began to remove the glass it appeared to him as if she was thrown into something like a mirror, or window but what confused him was the pieces of crystal from the vase that held her rose. He wished he had stayed around the opera house to know what happened. He cursed the Vicomte for not being there when she needed him. He would have never let this happen to her had she chosen him.

Anger, rage, betrayal, and loneliness coursed through his veins as he removed yet another piece of glass. How could she leave him as she did? He was left to die alone in the depths of that God forsaken Opera House and for what, for her to end up near death almost at his door. Damn that wretched boy, he took her away from him and then he can't even protect her from whoever did this to her. As much as he was angry with her, and as much as he wanted her to feel what he had felt these past few months, he looked upon her unconscious body and knew now was not the time for such emotions. She needed him right now, he had told her that he would always be there for her and he meant it with all his heart.

Hours had gone by and he was finally able to remove every piece of glass from her body. Some of the cuts bled some more, but others were beginning to heal. She didn't look like she would have any major scaring, but she might have a nasty headache for a week or so; her head had taken much of the force.

He began to clean her body of the caked blood, dirt, and sweat. His eyes ravished her body; he could not help becoming slightly aroused by the feel her soft gentle skin under his fingers. As much as he may have wanted to, he would not take advantage of her in her current situation. She would come to him, and welcome his touch; that was the way he had always wanted it.

He looked at the sorrowful state of her condition and began to wash her beautiful blonde hair for it was tinted with blood. He had always longed to touch her curls and spread them through his fingers; he had imagined them being soft as silk, not rough as they were now. He washed and brushed her hair making her appear even lovelier than he had remembered her.

Her body still felt cold despite the heat from the fire and the warmth of the blankets he had put on her. He pulled her close and used the blanket as a cape to surround them both in an attempt to use his body heat to warm her. He gasped slightly when he felt her silky cool breasts collide with his warm body. He put his lips to her ear and whispered her name while running his hands down her back and legs to give her some warmth; finally he felt heat return to her lifeless body.

As much as he would love to keep her naked form next to his, he knew that she had to get her clothed and put in bed to rest. He covered her with the blanket and opened her trunk of forgotten clothes and costumes to pull out one of her old favorite nightgowns. He laid it out on the bed and sighed as he went to retrieve his sleeping angel from the floor.

As he lifted her up to carry her to the bed Christine once again stirred in his arms, she felt a warm body next to hers that was soft and warm. She tried to move on her own but she realized that her entire body was in pain. She opened her eyes, but she could not see anything very clearly, she knew that the person who held her was not Raoul he was far to strong and muscular to be Raoul but as soon as a certain musty sent invaded her senses she knew that she could be in the arms of only one person. Only one person had that scent that drove her near the edge.

"Erik!"

He was startled by her soft whisper but sat her down on the bed and gently pressed her body to his while he spoke to her.

"Christine I'm not going to hurt you."

His words even while speaking were music to her. Since she had first hear him singing that Romany song all those months ago, which strangely seemed like decades ago, she had been lost to him. His voice had power over her she could no longer deny it. He was speaking to her as if she was a patient; there was no warmth nor coldness in her voice, just facts.

"You were badly hurt and need to rest, but I had to get you out of your dress, you were having trouble breathing, you were cold, and the dressed was drenched with your blood. I have some of your old clothes from your trunk here. I'm going to put this night gown on you."

Suddenly all the events from the past few days hit her afresh but she didn't cry, or weep or whimper she simply stared forward and thought of his voice, her Erik. First he handed her a drink mixed with some opium, not nearly as much as he was used to taking, but enough to put her to sleep and take away some of her pain.

As soon as she gave the glass back to him she felt dizzy, she wanted to talk to him, to see him, but the need to sleep overpowered her. In her daze she lost all care and concern for modesty and reserve; she leaned into him making sure to press her body seductively into his chest and claim his lips. She wanted him to feel every amount of pleasure that she had denied him all these months.

Erik, who was trying patiently to get her dressed, was shocked to feel her soft lips against his, not because of her forwardness but because he had not realized how strong of a need he had for her until that moment.

It started out as a tender kiss but quickly turned into a passionate one. He opened her lips with his tongue, and met her with a passion that he never before had felt. He mentally did a count of how much opium he actually had given her until he felt her fingers gently glide down his back and around to unbutton the front of his pants. At that point all thoughts had left him.

When she took hold of his flesh with her long fingers and stroked the length of him and the tip with her fingernails, he almost lost all control. He groaned in satisfaction as he trailed kisses down her throat being mindful of her bandaged wounds. He encased her hardened nipple with his lips and gently teased it even further with his tongue, which caused her fingers to flinch and continue their intense action. She felt like wine to him, he wanted to take her, to show her exactly on how much she missed out on, how much her distance had hurt him but not tonight, not like this, he gently pushed her away and enclosed her skillful fingers with his.

"Christine, you need your rest. Let me put you to bed and we can talk when you wake." Between whatever he gave her to drink, and the lingering feeling of his lips at her breast she didn't want to rest; she wanted him, all of him. She threw herself into his arms and let his gentle hands run through her hair.

"Stay with me, just like this, just for tonight. I want to feel your warm body next to mine." She finished removing his pants, and then fell to the floor with a gentle hum.

"Please…I need you here, just to hold me." Erik looked at her with a joyful expression, and also a sorrowful one because he knew that she belonged to another. His anger and loneliness once again returned but one fact was certain, the daring young Vicomte was not here, and his blushing bride had shown him more than friendly affection.

Tonight he would indulge himself in her soft body; he deserved at least that much. Tomorrow he would deal with everything. Tomorrow she would have to explain, tomorrow he would not swayed by soft lips, and a seductive caress, he would address her and their past tomorrow but tonight, fortunately tonight was just for him.

"As you wish my dear." He brought her lips to his in a soul-crushing kiss. His fingers slowly took hold of her breasts and began to tease the nipples with his thumbs causing her to release a low moan of pleasure. He kissed each breast as he settled her into the soft sheets and warm blankets, he was about to change his mind and leave her rest when her arms came around him and pulled him into the bed with her. He positioned himself that she was able to lie safely in his arms; as soon as she was under the comfort of the sheets and blankets sleep took her almost immediately. He just held her for a few moments and looked at her beautiful form. With his free arm he stroked the length of her arm all the way to her fingers when he noticed that she wore a ring, specifically his ring.

"Tomorrow my love tomorrow will change everything." He looked at her with longing but before sleep could take him he felt her turn and straddle his leg causing them to be thigh to thigh.

"This angel taunts me even in my sleep." He placed a kiss on her forehead before exhaustion finally took him.


	6. A Confrontation of Two Broken Hearts

_Sorry it took so long to update, a lot has been going on._

_A Confrontation of Two Broken Hearts_

Christine stirred in her sleep, she felt warm and safe. The bed did not feel like her bed in the mansion, but yet it felt familiar. Even the nightgown she wore felt like one she had owned a long time ago before she was married. Suddenly all the events from the past two days flooded her memory. She remembered Raoul accidentally throwing her into the mirror, and then waking up in Erik's arms.

She blushed at her lack of control that night. She couldn't believe that she had actually undressed him and asked him to stay with her for the night. She could still fell his naked body next to hers, as they feel asleep.

Where had he gone anyway? When she fell asleep she was lying in his arms, now she was covered in her nightgown but Erik was nowhere to be seen. She wanted to see him, to talk to him about what had occurred last night. To tell him about Raoul; no she couldn't tell him about Raoul for if she did he would surely kill him. It wasn't Raoul's fault. Thinking about Raoul made her mind begin to sink into a deep depression. It was her fault that he was in this situation it was entirely her fault.

She sat up to move but realized that she was still very much incapacitated. Her head was still spinning wildly and she could barely lift her arms becuase they had become so stiff. She let out a frustrated moan, just as Erik entered the room. This time fully dressed, including a mask.

"Ah my dear, I was beginning to get worried about you. You have been asleep for nearly three days." Erik was carrying a tray of food adorned with a single red rose tied with his black ribbon trademark. He had defiantly been pleased by her previous passionate display, but he was not even sure if she remembered any of it.

She actually looked around for the first time and noticed that she was not in her room at the Opera House. It was her bed, and her nightgown, and Erik, but it defiantly was not the same room. This room had a beautiful blue carpet that looked extremely soft, a magnificent mantel on the far wall in which a blazing fire was burning, and in the corner there were huge French doors which led out to a snow covered balcony.

"Ah, I see that you are captivated by the falling snow." Erik replied as he put her tray down on the nightstand.

"Apparently Paris is in for a record snowfall. Roads are already closed, and I received an advisory from French Police to stay indoors for safety purposes. I am afraid that you will be forced to suffer with my company for a few days longer, at least until they clear the roads, and you are feeling better.

He simply looked at her bandaged body and fought down his anger. Now was still not the time, she must gain her strength.  
They simply looked at each other for a moment before Erik started to feed her the soup he had made. She at first had tried to feed herself but she couldn't manage to hold the spoon very well, so she was resigned to letting Erik feed her, which she found she quite enjoyed.

When she had neared the end of the bowl, he noticed her trying to again hide her pain. She had always been strong willed even when he had been teaching her as the Angel of Music. Her eyes were a dead giveaway every time. Whoever said that the eyes were the windows to the soul was correct because he could see everything in her eyes; pain, love, fear, passion, and hatred it was all there open for anyone with insight to see.

He gracefully pushed back a hair from her face causing the pads of his fingers to just barely graze her skin. Despite his anger he wanted to hold her again while she slept; he wanted to always keep her safe. When he awoke two days ago with her naked body next to his, he thought he had finally died and entered heaven; it was to his surprise that he was very much alive, and she really was in his arms. He did feel slightly guilty that he had succumbed to her delirious request, she was after all a married woman, but it was only slight guilt for the pain of her betrayal was still fresh in his heart.

"Christine. I will give you only a little more opium. I know the pain must be intolerable but you can become heavily dependent upon it." He knew that from personal experience. He had been addicted to first morphine, and now opium for years; so much so that it hardly even affected his system anymore.

"Please…Erik." He gave her a drink mixed with the narcotic and watched her eyes grow sleepy. She thanked him, and stared into his eyes as she fell back asleep.

"Sleep angel, for when you are better, there is much to talk about."

He then took water that was boiling on the mantel and cleaned her wounds and changed her bandages. They were healing nicely, a few more days and she wouldn't need any more bandages at all.

The next few days went about the same until one day he walked into her room and found her bandagages removed,and she was dressed in her clothes from the trunk. She was just sitting on a stool staring out of the window looking at the falling snow. He had seen her downward spiral of spirits since her arrival. She became extremely distant, she never asked to leave, but then again she never said she wished to stay either.

He paused when he entered the room to simply look at her; he had missed looking at her. He used to enter into her room at night just so he could watch her sleep. She never knew that a monster sometimes kept vigil at her bedside.

She looked the picture of loveliness sitting in her low cut scarlet silk gown, that gown was always one of his favorites for he picked it out himself; it went well with the curve of her neck, her blonde hair, and blue eyes.

She looked lost in her thoughts though almost sad, maybe lonely. She really had not said anything to him this entire week other than thank you, and please, or if you don't mind. She was defiantly depressed of that he was sure, but he didn't know the cause. Maybe she actually remembered her actions of her first night there and regretted them, or maybe she wanted to go home to Raoul, but didn't have the courage to ask him. He had to know what caused her such distress.

"The storm gave us six feet last week, and they say that we are supposed to possibly get six more."

The sound of his soft creamy voice snapped her out of her thoughts as she rose from her seat and took a few graceful steps toward him. She had to know many things; she had sat too long in solitude and silence pondering her past, her present situation, and her future. She had to know a great many things.

"Erik! Where am I?" she asked, she couldn't wait for his everyday pleasentries. "Everything looks the same, this was my bed, and my furniture, but this is not the Louis-Philippe room, and we are not underneath the Opera House." Erik chuckled low in his throat as he put her tray down on her nightstand; the time had come for a full confrontation. His anger returned afresh, his heart needed to heal and she finally needed to know.

"No my dear, you are right," he said calmly "we are not underneath the Opera house, and as much as it gives me pleasure to hear you think of these items as yours, they are in fact mine, you abandoned everything that night when you left with that boy." He heard her short intake of breath as he crossed in front of her to look out the window. She would get no reprieve, not today, he had waited too long for this moment to be worried about her feelings.

"This my dear," he said gesturing to the outside and around the room "was meant to be our house. I purchased it weeks before you and that damned boy even planned to run away together. I thought… well I didn't really know what I thought, but I knew that you needed light and warmth, and the promise of a home, a future, not a cold damp prison, so…I bought it for you…for us."

He was angry, his fists were clenched tight and he was on the verge of shouting. _I trusted you, I loved you, and you betrayed me,_ but they had already fought that fight down in his lair.

"Oh Erik." She said sadly. "I had no idea." He scowled at her and moved away from the window to face her.

"Of course you didn't, you could never see past what was directly in front of you. You were never able to see how much I wanted you, how much I needed you, or how much I loved you."

He couldn't hold back his rage any longer. "I was the heinous killer who murdered for pleasure, the infamous opera ghost who tortured the managers, and tormented the ballet rats, not because I had a right to live, but because of sick pleasure! It was all too easy for you to run away with your Prince Charming to the bright white castle, rather than see me for the man I am."

He turned to look again outside; he knew his cruelty would probably cause her to weep and he would feel guilty about it. They had been engaged in this never-ending game of cat and mouse ever since he first revealed himself to her as a man instead of an angel. He would shout, she would cry, they both would pretend like it never happened, and then the cycle would continue.

Erik's words did strike her to the soul this time, but it did not make her weep, no this time it made her angry.

"Easy!" she screamed at him. "Erik, do you think leaving you was easy. Oh yes I particularly enjoyed turning my back on the only life I have ever known; being forced to abandon music, and dance and enter into a life I was unprepared for."

Erik turned to look at her; it was like he was seeing her for the first time she had defiantly changed, grown up really. That boy must have killed her innocence and forced her to grow up, he knew it was inevitable. He rather liked this side of her a lot; it displayed her passion for living and making her own choices rather than the child that always did what she was told.

"Oh yes Erik, you knew it all didn't you. You knew that I would never fit in his society. You knew that I would never be able to perform in public again. You knew I had given up my life for a fantasy dreamed up as a young girl."

Erik simply stood there shocked, he had known, but she had not believed him. He should feel glad and satisfied, but he actually felt sorry for her, he had wanted her to be happy, that's all he had ever wanted for her, which is why he had let her go in the first place.

Christine was finally able to pour out her heart to someone who would listen to her words, to someone who would not hurt her, but as she spoke she realized that more of her repressed feelings were beginning to show, it was as if her heart were finally given a chance to speak on its own.

"Yes, you knew, but what you don't know is that my heart still lies with you in the house by the lake. I knew as soon as I kissed you the second time that I had made a mistake. I wanted you to take me away right then. I wanted to be in the comfort of your arms, but alas I was too week, too sheltered to realize what I was feeling. I was caught up in what I was supposed to be feeling. I was supposed to love Raoul; he was supposed to be my night in shining armor, the one who saved me from danger but he wasn't."

"I was never taught about someone like you, no one ever spoke about a person who could touch your heart like no other; someone who could understand you, and be with you as a friend, as a lover, as a confidant. I was not prepared for how you touched my life at first as an angel, and then as a man. I had abandon that and leave you because of my own stupid preconceived notions."

Erik grabbed her shoulders rough enough to get his point across, but gently enough not to hurt her. Her confession merely aggravated his tortured heart.

"You could have left anytime you wanted. You chose him, you chose to stay."

"We were already married and I had nowhere else to go, Mama Valérius had already passed away, I was left alone to a fate of my making. I had no one else to turn to, besides I couldn't leave Raoul, his mind had already become violent." Erik released her and walked to the center of the room, he couldn't comprehend what he was hearing, and suddenly he knew what had happened to her. That silly boy that had foolishly risked his life to save her, was the one who was hurting her.

"Christine…How could you."

"How could I stay?" she asked sarcastically. "Do you think that you are the only one who suffered from that night? No my dear Erik, the three of us will forever be trapped in a bizarre triangle in the depths of that opera house. Raoul is no different than the rest of us; only the torment began to deteriorate his mind.

"I stayed because I do love him, no it is not as a wife should but I love him nonetheless. His mind has been fading for some time until finally last week it snapped completely. He didn't realize he was hurting me, I know he didn't. His eyes, his eyes were of a distant expression, he had no knowledge of what he was doing when he shook me and threw me into the mirror. That is the last thing I remember before I woke up in your arms. I don't know how I got here; I didn't even know that you were alive.

Erik was angry, furious at her tale. That boy had no right to take out his anger on her. He should have sought him out and challenged him instead of taking out his anger on her.

"That boy is to blame for all of this." Christine stepped away from him in frustration and anger.

"Ah…Stop," she screamed, "I am tired of defending you to him, and he to you. Why can't you both just learn that both of you are in my heart, let me choose, stop laying blame on each other for what cannot be changed.

"You already made your choice my dear and look at the disaster that occurred." Erik replied coldly.

Christine couldn't retain control any longer; her emotional outburst left her drained and his words hit her hard. She knew she had destroyed them both, but hearing the words uttered out loud made her outer shell collapse. Her tears poured like rain as she screamed at him once more.

"Well turn me out in the street, murder me, beat me, treat me like the whore I am, do whatever you want with me. You should never have saved my life in the first place, you should have left me to die like the miserable bitch that I am. You think that I don't know what I have done."

Christine stormed up to him and ripped off his mask. His first reaction was to turn away, rather than have her look on at his marred disgusting face again.

"You think your face is repulsive, then my soul must be even more disgusting, for in my indecision I have destroyed two men, and brought nothing but misery to the memory of my dead father.

"So take your mask," she said throwing it to the floor at his feet, " hide your true form, for I can hide mine no longer." They stared at each other for just a moment that seemed like hours, and then Erik left her room slamming the door, leaving her alone in her tears.

There was nothing left for her to do but seek solace in her bed, and weep. Some things about her would just never change but it felt so good to scream, so good to cry, so good to feel again, she felt miserable, but it was much better feeling something than the nothing she had been feeling for weeks.


	7. The Power of Music

_Okay...sorry for the delay, but thank god for snow. Please review and let me know what you think. Happy reading everyone. Emmy I hope that you enjoy this much awaited chapter. _

_Oh and the disclaimer that I have forgotton thus far: I own nothing but the idea, characters...unfortunately are not mine._

_The Power of Music_

"So take your mask," she had said throwing his mask to the floor at his feet, " hide your true form, for I can hide mine no longer." Erik played out his frustration on the dusty old piano. He had moved the piano from the Opera House when he had moved Christine's things, but ever since she left he had no desire for music. Everytime he had attempted to play, the music it had always seemed empty and cold, devoid of all beauty and desire.

In order to not completely loose what was left of his sanity he divulged in his other activities that he had neglected due becoming her Angel of Music, meaning architecture, invention, and art. However this past week shattered everything, his angel had been brought back to him, possibly by fate, most likely by a demented vicomte. His music was becoming violent, as he continued to think about Raoul.

"Raoul " he uttered out loud, giving him a name, a concrete reference that was almost like admitting defeat. Referring to him as "boy" or "vicomte" made him an intangible creature, something that was an idea not actually real but Raoul was anything but intangible. He was a living-breathing rival. Raoul had taken everything from him and then reduced it to nothing but a shell, beginning with Christine, and then with his music.

Erik's music had taken an evendarker turn as he thought about Raoul's fingers sliding skillfully up her spine; entwining his fingers into her long curls, and finally taking her. Then he saw the image of him throwing her into the mirror, Erik did not care that he didn't do it on purpose. No one cared when Joseph Bouquet accidentally was accidently murdered by wondering into the torture chamber, everyone blamed it on the ghost, regardless of the circumstances. His fingers were running gracefully and forcefully up and down the keys of the piano trying to rid himself of the image of her writhing beneath him in ecstasy, and then being thrown into the mirror.

He was sure that when he let them go, she would be safe and happy, that's why he never asked her what her choiceactually was, he knew she wanted to stay with Raoul, or at least he thought he knew she wanted to stay with him.

The piano sang out his fury making the sound echo throughout the entire house. He was angry with Raoul for hurting her, angry with Christine for staying with him, and angry with himself for being the cause of Raoul's state of mind. If he never would have put him in that situation, she never would have been hurt, _but then she wouldn't be here with you now either_ his mind warned.

Suddenly as violent as the music had began, a soft haunting sweetly seductive song emerged as he began to think of Christine and the encounter of her first night in his home. He thought about the softness of her lips, and the warmth of her skin. His mind drifted to the immense pleasure he had felt at waking up with her hair in is face and his arm half asleep because of her weight, the simple things that most married men take for granted. The more he thought about her, the more his music began to change into a gently hypnotic song which seemed to beckon her from the comfort of her room.

Christine heard him start to play his music as soon as he left her room. _I must have severely angered him_, she thought. Erik would always pour out his emotions into his music, it was his release, his way of communicating with the rest of the world, but no oneexcept her was ever able to see it.

She could feel his anger and hatred for Raoul, and she couldn't blame him for it either. In his eyes Raoul was what stood between him and happiness, but Christine knew that it wasn't true, it was she who stopped him from being happy.

If anyone could read Erik's music she could, anger, hatred, and contempt were played in every single note, she wished she could comfort him; but how could she comfort him, when she herself was the cause of all his torment.

She looked around the room and noticed that his mask still lay on the soft carpet. How she loathed that thing. Since she had awoken and seen him with it on she had wanted to rip it from his face but lacked the strength to do so. Thinking back on their argument she couldn't believe that she had the audacity to tear it from his face and taunt him with it right in front of him, how cruel could she be. The horror he must have felt; no matter what she did, she always found a way to hurt him. She felt increasingly guilty as she knelt down to the floor and cradled his mask in his arms rocking back and forth to the music.

His mask held his scent and it invaded her senses making her remember the way he felt under her touch. A strong desire to please him overwhelmed her as she felt his soft hypnotic music surround her and penetrate her sorrow. Could he ever forgive her for what she has done?

She didn't even realize she had moved from the floor until she was already halfway down the hallway realizing she had absolutely no idea of where she was going. She knew that if she followed the music, she would find Erik.

As she followed the hypnotic sound she saw many portraits, and scenes which most-likely came from the depths of Erik's mind. She saw a portrait of a woman, with dark hair and very cold eyes handing what appeared to be a mask to a cowering child. The boy appeared afraid, but there was certain strength about him, and even though it was only a small boy, she knew that it was Erik and his mother.

He had told her the story of how his mother had neglected him and forced him to wear a mask, but seeing the actual image come to life, made her heart ache for Erik. What he must have went through; how could she have never considered it before. She wished that she could reach into the painting and shield the small child from his doomed fate.

There were several other images of Paris, and Persia, Italy, and Russia, she knew them all from Erik's stories, but they seemed to come alive and surround her, as if she was able to actually enter into Erik's mind and see what he has seen, feel what he was able to feel. It was the same effect that his music had on her.

His music, his music seemed to call her even stronger that before. She wanted to stay there to learn more about what Erik saw all those years ago, but she couldn't deny the power of the music any longer, it reached into the depths of her soul, calming her pervious anger and calling her forward.

She almost began to run using the haunting notes as a path to it's mysterious owner. It was almost as if the music had taken a life of it's own to come and find her, to make her come to the dark man to tortured the keys of the piano. Even the music sought to comfort him. However just as she was about to enter what appeared to be the music room, one more portrait captured her eye. It was a portrait of her at her own wedding.

The portrait was of her alone, before she prepared to walk down the aisle. He had captured everything perfectly, the style of her dress, the way her hair had arranged, it was perfect. Erik was even able to capture her nervousness and even her longing for her Angel in her vacant expression. He had obviously been present the day that she made the vows to Raoul. She had no idea that he had even been at the church, or had seen her, but there she was hanging in Erik's hallway at the entrance to the music room.

The portrait made her look even more beautiful, he either did not chose to paint her imperfections, or he just was blind to them altogether. The longer she stared up into the distant eyes of the girl of the portrait, the more she felt like she had to live up to that expectation. Erik was truly a genius; she could not possibly be that beautiful, he did neglect to capture the darkness of her soul.

When she opened the door she found it almost in complete darkness, only one candle was lit which sent an eerie darkness over the man who rocked back and forth over the ivory keys.

This what his days must have been like under the opera house, nothing but darkness and music. She couldn't stand to see him torture himself like this.He had told her that she had needed light and warmth, but so did he, after years of solitude he needed the light perhaps more than anyone so she absent-mindedly began to light one candle after another. When she came to the fireplace she lit it for light but also for warmth, for it was quite cold and dusty in this room, evidently it had not been used in quite sometime.

After the room was well lit which of course he did not notice since his eyes were tightly shut, she stopped to watch him play. The familiar intoxicating melodies encircled her body and attacked her senses making her aware of how much she really wanted him, needed him, and loved him; _the very words same words he had uttered to her not hours before_ her mind argued.

Christine had made her decision; she deftly crossed to where the tortured man played out his emotions on the instrument. Slowly she leaned in and placed small kisses upon his marred face. She slid her hands down the front of his dress shirt relishing the feel of his quickened heartbeat, and warm body.

Erik's eyes snapped open, he hadn't even heard her enter the room, let alone light the candles and the fireplace; not being the opera ghost had really weakened his senses, but as he felt her lips on his flesh he quickly thought of how he could get used to this. Unknowingly he had hit a wrong note on the piano causing the discord to ring out in both their ears.

Christine smiled seductively and pressed her lips to his ear.

"Did I hear the great and mighty opera ghost almost falter at my touch." She continued to caress his chest, this time popping open some of the buttons to gain access to his skin. His sharp intake of breath at the feel of her cool fingers sliding across his scared skin gave her more confidence.

She began to place kisses on the sides of his face and then down his throat as far as she could bend being sure to tease the skin with her tongue. Suddenly she felt a hand at the back of her head, pulling her closer to him, she enjoyed the feel of his fingers in her hair, but the most amazing part was that his music never faltered, he continued to spring forth a fantastic melody with the use of only one hand.

"You completely amaze me!" She said as she stood up to look at him. Christine put her hand in his as he guided her to stand slightly in front of him so that he could look at her. The fingers of his right hand lightly gazed over the ivory keys, as the fingers of his left hand gently caressed her cheek and throat.

"No it is you that amazes me, by simply being here." and before she realized it he pulled her onto his left knee while both hands continued to play the haunting melody. Ever since he had first brought her down to the lair, he wanted to hold her like this as he played, his love and his music, the two best things of his life. This is where she should have been this is where she belonged.

"Now you are trapped my dear," Christine laughing as she sat in his lap, she enjoyed being in his arms especially in front of the piano, she watched with amazement as his fingers delicately moved across the keys. She became entranced by the movement, and thought about how those fingers gracefully going up and down her spine in the same fluid motion. She knew this melody and she wanted to join, rather than just sit there.

While Erik was playing she joined in the music by mimicking his notes an octave higher, and an octave lower emitting a beautiful piece of harmony between the two of them. Christine was indeed enjoying herself, Raoul wouldn't even let her play the piano that was in the foyer, but while he was asleep, she would put the dampener pedal on and play in the late hours of the night, sometimes it would comfort her if she could not sleep. While she was lost in her thoughts, she felt drops of water land on her shoulders and fall into the curve of her breasts. When she looked up at her maestro he saw the tears streaming down his face as he looked at her and played the piano.

The moment their eyes met he tempted fate and leaned into her and kissed her soft lips. He had never tasted such sweetness as he parted her lips with his tongue. At that moment the music came to an abrupt end as he turned her around to face him. Their mutual passion had been heated by their piano duet, and he could wait no longer to put his arms around her. He pulled her close to his body and savagely claimed her lips.

In all her coupling with Raoul, never once had she felt such a strong desire. She had felt his desire yes, but never had she wanted a man that as much as she wanted her former master. She kissed him back with just as much intensity as he was giving her that shocked them both to the core.

The buttons on his shirt were already open from her earlier exploration, but now she did not want to wait to be gentle, she ripped the rest of his shirt off his shoulders causing the last few buttons to fall to the floor. Her fingernails skimmed his skin, causing him to moan with pleasure. He already had the buttons of her gown undone; he was now working on removing the laces on her corset. Their mouths had hardly left one another and finally she stood before him in her very revealing chemise.

He kissed her lips determined to make her his when she backed away from him. She had the look of desire in her eyes, which reassured him.

"I want to make up for the lost time; and give you a new reason for life." Her voice was low and seductive, raw with need for him, as she slowly began to remove the front buttons of her chemise. She ever so slowly slid the fabric off her shoulders, taunting him with her flesh, giving him full sight of what she had denied him.

To Erik she had never looked lovelier, her blonde hair hung to below her waist, slightly disheveled due to their previous ill restraint, and her breasts were covered in sweet and deliciously aroused. There was no stopping him tonight she was going to be his, and it was very appropriate that it would happen in the music room; music is what brought them together after all.

Christine's sultry movements toward him brought him back to the present, when she was near him, she lifted her leg it to his lap.

"Would you care to do the honor of removing my stockings." Erik smiled seductively toward her as his hands reached out and took hold of the thin fabric. His fingers slightly entered her core just enough to tease her, as he slowly caressed her leg removing the stocking. She put it down, and then lifted the next leg, as his fingers gently probed her inner thigh removing the second stocking from her body.

She stood there completely nude as he pulled her onto his lap causing her to straddle him on the piano bench. Her breasts crushed into his bear chest, as his hands reached into her hair. He caressed her spine with such reverence as he took with playing his music, which caused her to moan in his ear.

"I want you to know that you are mine, I could not bear it if you left again, so if you have a desire to leave, this is your last moment to gather your clothes and leave, because even just speaking to you is taking all restraint that I have." She looked into his eyes, and consequently his soul.

"My heart, and my mind is here, if I leave it would only be through death." With that she stepped off of him as he stood, and lowered herself to her knees to begin to undo his trousers. Once she had them off, she looked up at him with nothing but wonder and amazement on her face. This man had given everything to her, and she had cruelly taken it away, she leaned down and kissed his feet, his knees his waist before she paused and took his aroused flesh into her mouth.

Erik groaned at this pleasure, he had never thought that her innocent nature would actually allow her to perform this act, but by no means was it a complaint. A strong desire to please him coursed through her body as she kneaded him, and teased the length of his flesh with her tongue, she wanted to hear him say her name; she needed to know that she pleased him. His fingers combed through the length of her hair as continued to give him the greatest pleasure of his life.

"Christine…" he sighed in need that almost bordered on pain. Once she heard her name she continued to place kisses up his waist lingering on his belly button, and then up his chest taking an erect nipple into her mouth, she used her teeth to slightly bite causing him to release another moan.

As soon as she was standing upright, he savagely grabbed her into his arms and carried her over to the chemise. He laid her down and came on top of her as he kissed her lips and trailed small kisses also mimicking her biting attempts down her own throat, but in the meantime he slid one finger up between her inner thighs as her whole body cried out for release.

"Erik!" she cried, "I need you" but he would not be swayed he wanted to savor every inch of her. As his fingers continued to probe her, he took one breast in his mouth, while his other had took the other one. Christine had never felt such pleasure, every sensitive area of her body was on fire, she began to pant as her first orgasm hit. Erik stopped his movements for a moment and just looked at the beautiful woman beneath him. She was undeniably his, not even that boy could take her from him now. Judging by her reaction he doubted that the boy had ever made her feel like this and he was going to continue to love her, to make her cry out his name again.

"Erik. I need you now." she screamed.

He wasted no time in pulling her to the floor to meet him and he entered her body quickly. For a moment time stood still as they looked into each other's eyes, both not believing the sensations that were coursing through their bodies. The last time she had sung on stage their souls had joined in music, now they have joined in body and spirit, tears began to flow from their eyes as they both continued to move. The continued their rough movements into each other one after another, Christine clawed at his back, the pleasure was just too much for her, and Erik fared no better than she as he held onto her hips with such force.

Their lips met with such a fierce desire, that when release finally came they both collapsed to the ground still joined, wrapped in each others arms as they fell asleep in front of the roaring fire each holding onto each other tightly afraid that they would loose one another to the world.

And that is how he saw them as they looked in through a window at night, two lovers that have finally found peace. Now what to do with this information he did not know, but he had to do something, somehow something had to be done.

_I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. I am having tons of fun writing it. Please review..let me know what you think._


	8. One Day of Pure Bliss

Okay it has been a very long time in coming, but it is about time this story has an ending. Of course I own nothing but dream of everything. I hope you all enjoy.

**Chapter Eight: One Day of Pure Bliss**

It was very late in the afternoon when Christine finally started to stir. She felt so safe and warm that she didn't want to move let alone get out of bed.

"Bed." she thought. She didn't remember sleeping in a bed. Suddenly the memories of last night invaded her mind and she gave a blush at the things she had done. She had imagined some amorous situations with Erik before, she would be lying to herself if she said that she said that she did not, but actually doing some of them was a completely new experience for her. However, try as she might she still didn't remember being in a bed. Music room floor...yes...Piano bench...definitely yes..Chaise...yes...Bed...no.

She sat up immediately and hoped that last night did not just occur in her mind, and what she saw amazed her eyes. She was most definitely not in the music room, nor was she in the new Louis-Phillipe room. The only conclusion that she came to was that this had to be the master bedroom and it was absolutely breathtaking.

The room positively radiated passion and desire. The walls were adorned with a deep red velvet accented with gold brocade. There were no less than three fire places, even in Raoul's chateau there was rarely more than one per room but here there were three. There was one fireplace on each side of the bed with nothing more than a shelf above them, and then on the opposite side of the room was a large fire place with a mantelpiece adorned with the most beautiful candelabras she had ever put her eyes upon.

In the center of the room hung a crystal chandelier with rows and rows of sparkling crystals. The furniture around the room, especially the massive four poster bed was exotic and sensual. Dark mahogany with wood carvings of small faeries or sprites seemed to reach out to any passer by and beg acceptance of their fantasy world.

"I could learn to like this room very quickly" she thought. She imagined herself falling asleep in the chemise with a good book, or relaxing in a nice bubble bath in front of the grand fire place and she was sure if the chaise was anything like the chaise in the music room, she certainly had some ideas which involved a certain lord of the manor. The room seemed to give her imagination wings as several different ideas pranced around her head and different avenues were explored.

"It's so beautiful!" she said out loud.

"I couldn't agree more.", said a ghostly figure from the corner of the room his eyes never leaving the wide eyed blue ones that came from the bed.

Erik had been watching her sleep for a while. He awoke in the music room very early this morning still entwined in his lover's embrace. As much as he wanted to spend the rest of eternity in that room and forget about the outside world, the fire had long died out, and there was nothing left of the candles leaving a very noticeable chill and darkness. He didn't want his goddesses first images when she awoke to be of a dark room and a cold marble floor. He wanted her to feel warmth, and light, and most of all he wanted her to feel loved.

So very early in the morning he carried his beloved up the stairs, up beyond the music room, past the Louis-Phillipe room and other guests rooms, up to the master bed room. The room which he re-designed with her in mind of course.

The fireplaces had been a very unique design to that room, he thought, as he placed her in the warmth of the satin sheets and feather blankets. Whoever originally built the house must have really loved its mistress for unlike most of the aristocracy, whose husband and wives share different rooms with different beds, this master bedroom and it's comfort was designed for two.

One fireplace in a room does not heat very much more than what is right in front of the fireplace, leaving the room quite chilled and downright cold in the winter. The two fireplaces one each side of the bed in addition to the large one in the center allows the heat to circulate and therefore warm the entire room especially the entirety of the bed itself. Providing a really remarkable nights sleep.

Erik noticed this minor detail right away. Where most would see it as an enormous expense to keep all three fireplaces lit during the winter. He saw it as how best to please his love.

All those months ago when he first purchased this house he dreamed at seeing his goddess awaken just as she had in warmth and love. Now after all that has happened, seeing her in front of him, unclothed and sleeping peacefully he just wanted to look at her, afraid that in the end it would turn out to be only a dream.

Christine blushed at the thought that she was still completely naked under the mountains of sheets and blankets, but she had never felt more comfortable. As she stared at her lover she felt all the embarrassment melt away and turn into pure desire. He wore nothing but a black silk and brocade robe, and in his arms he carried a tray of tea, pastries, and small sandwiches over to breakfast table near the doors that looked out onto the balcony.

"I have some breakfast, or in this case some lunch if you would like to join me." He walked over to the bed and picked up a purple satin and lace, robe that was on a chair next to the bed and held it out for her, inviting her skin to taste its soft silken treasure.

As her arms slid into the fabric, she had never felt anything more soft and luxurious, she truly did not deserve her angel. She felt foolishly papered but she could not keep back the radiant smile.

As Erik guided her into her robe, the scent of roses and myrrh once again invaded his senses. She was so beautiful, and for the moment she was his. His fingers slowly began to caress her arms through the fabric and up to her shoulders where he began to message and kiss the back of her neck. She moaned in response and it fueled him further as his arm slid around her waist and caressed her skin up her stomach and gently caressed her breast rolling her nipple between his thumb and his forefinger.

Christine moaned in her angel's arms once again and she placed her hand behind Erik's head as his other hand joined its twin on her other breast teasing her nipple giving her body the gentlest pleasure.

He propped his knee up on the chair and allowed Christine to support her weight against him. While his one had continued its ministrations on her breast, the other caressed her skin down to the juncture between her legs and began a gentle circular motion. He continued that circular motion never increasing speed and never slowing down. She was helpless to move, nor did she want to, the knowledge that her body was completely under his whim excited and delighted her and the vibrations that were beginning to course through her veins was unparallelled.

Around and around his fingers kept moving, the room which was already warm was beginning to grow even warmer. Her need was becoming more and more intense with each circular movement. Around and around in a consistent tempo to an imaginary metronome like he was playing music only he can hear. The pressure in her legs was building to a greater extent, and it didn't help that his lips were still moving from her throat to her lips and back again; while his other hand played with her nipple, all the while his fingers still moving in that sensual circle.

"Erik.."she panted leaning back into him grateful for his body support. "I need...I need you to...I need release...Faster" she begged. She couldn't believe that those words that came out of her mouth but she needed him to do something, the pressure and this anticipation was driving her mad. She needed him to do something and quickly.

Erik gave a deep and husky chuckle and whispered "No..no..no my Aphrodite! Sometime patience can give you a far greater pleasure opposed to a quick release." And with that he removed his hand from her breast and steadied her hips that had started to move on their own accord.

He knew she was almost there. He held her firmly as his fingers continued their own private dance pleasuring her in ways she had never dreamed.

She screamed his name as such a rush and tingling sensation shot through her legs and feet like electricity. His fingers ceased as her body still rushed wave after wave of pleasure. Erik then swiftly swept her off her feet knowing that she would not be able to stand on her own and placed her at the elaborate chair at the breakfast table where he finished fastening her robe and poured her a cup of tea.

Christine was still trying to get her breath and steady her body from the onslaught of pleasure that was still raging through her body. Erik definitely knew how to please a woman, and filed that thought away as to where he learned that particular technique. Somehow the thought of him with another woman did not sit well with her at all.

Erik poured her tea and stifled a prideful smile, satisfied with himself that he had given her a gift that the idiot boy clearly had not. Finally all his time and knowledge gained in Persia was used for pleasure and not immense torture.

Before Erik moved away from her Christine grabbed his arm and pulled him to her in a strong but powerful embrace.

"That was beyond amazing. Thank you." Now he could not contain his grin or his pride as he held her close and whispered in his deep voice."

"You are a woman who deserves to be loved. I have waited a lifetime to show you how I could love you, and seeing your desirable body wake in my bed. I couldn't resist."

He pulled away from her and captured her lips in a gentle kiss not contemplating the fact that he could easily forget about his idea of lunch and take her back to the comforts of a warm bed and continue their adventures from the previous evening.

"However", he said as he reluctantly pulled away "If we don't eat something soon I don't think think we will make it through the day."

Christine laughed a genuine laugh and hugged him even tighter. Happiness. This had to be what this was happiness. She felt so calm, so relaxed, and so just happy that she couldn't stop smiling.

Erik placed her tea in front of her and went to sit on the other side of the table. She couldn't believe the irony of having breakfast or lunch in this case in nothing but her robe. It was sinful, it was disgraceful, and it was oh so wonderful.

Christine sipped her tea and ate her lunch, not realizing how hungry she actually was as she watched Erik place more wood on the fireplaces. He opened the curtains to let in some natural light into the fire lit room. It was still snowing outside and it showed no signs of stopping any time soon.

"It looks like what they said about the snow is true" he said, "It looks like another foot just dropped on us last night. Paris won't know what to do with all this snow. Luckily I have plenty of food and wood to last us the winter. He returned to the table and was just about to pour his own tea when her gentle hand stopped him.

"As much as you have done for me let me now do something for you." Christine rose from her chair, like an empress descending a staircase, and came around to face him. She kissed him ever so gently and straddled his knee positioning them torso to torso. Erik could feel her womanly warmth as she settled her delicate flesh against his knee.

"Oh the things I could do to her at this moment" he thought. But he decided to let her play out her game for the moment. He was very interested in seeing where her own thoughts would lead.

While on his lap Christine poured a cup of tea and held it to Erik's lips. The look of desire in her eyes did not go unnoticed and his desire for her began anew.

"So much for the nourishment." He thought. Then Christine did something that he only imagined. She completely removed her robe and let it fall to her waist baring her for his eyes to feast and feast he did.

Her movements surprised him, but by no means was he disappointed in the least. His angel, his beautiful angel was perched on his knee. She arched her back ever so slightly that her full breasts seamed to be call him like a siren in the sea, and just when he was about to lift his arms to caress the soft silk of her skin, she began to sing.

The completely euphoric look in his eyes was not lost on her, and it gave her the strength to continue. Erik's eyes devoured her from head to waist. Her blond disheveled hair hung down to her waist like an angel; while one strand hung in front of her face, resting on her very erect breasts. She felt a small twinge of embarrassment as he devoured her like a starving man devours fresh meat. But she wanted to please him in the best was that she knew how.

She continued her song, an aria from Romeo and Juliet to be more specific. It was one that he had rehearsed with her time and time again, chastising her to bring more passion and desire into her song. Well this time she held nothing back. "Let's see if he has any criticisms this time." she thought as she made sure to hit every vibrato in perfect time.

Never in his wild imaginings, well maybe in some imaginings somewhere, did he envision his little songbird singing this particular aria in the position that she currently put herself. She was truly an amazement.

Her tone and pitch were perfect and her passion more than evident. When she picked up his sandwich and began to feed it to him, he was in complete shock. Persia be damned this is the most erotic meal he had had the pleasure of partaking in and he had seen many in his lifetime. He made mental note to check to see if there was signs of invasion in some of his less-accepted Persian books that he had acquired, in Persia. He really wondered where she had learned this art of seduction, because he was helplessly ensnared.

Piece by piece she fed him his meal, and every so often him his tea and he was in heaven. She really was an angel. A small crumb had fallen from the last of the pastries and his eyes watched it as it fell and landed on the breast closest to him. He wanted to continue to listen to her song, but that damn crumb it taunted him, it called to him begging to be removed from her breast, knowing it did not belong there, knowing it tainted her skin by being a speck of imperfection and he couldn't resist himself as he leaned forward and captured the offending crumb and of course her nipple into his mouth.

Christine faltered in her song just slightly at the pleasure of his lips and the things that his tongue was doing to her. She ran her fingers through his hair drawing him closer, causing him to moan into her breast. He still couldn't get over the fact that she wanted him, and loved him, he needed her with him.

"Oh Christine." he whispered

She suddenly pulled away as she began the crescendo of the aria. He laid his head back in the chair and gazed at the beautiful woman in front of him. It wasn't until he felt her small hand reach into his robe and slide around his flesh that he was completely undone. The absolute pleasure. The combination of her fingers, her angelic voice, the seductive song, and beauty of her body that sat in front of him that sent his body over the edge.

He screamed her name as he reached his climax holding onto her for support. There was a tear in his eye as he pulled her fully to his body and hugged her with a strong desperate embrace. He was never going to let her go never. He knew that she completed him. He was certain that she was his other half. No one would be able to take her away from him again, not after what they had shared.

Christine smiled, pulled her robe back over her shoulders and gave Erik a smug possessive look, as she once again covered herself in the luxury of her robe.

"I just wanted to return the favor" she said seductively. Then she walked to the window and looked out at the beautiful blanket of white. The view over the snow covered gardens was quite beautiful. She couldn't wait to see what flowers would bloom in the spring, or how it would look when autumn hit and the leaves changed their remarkable color.

A sadness suddenly struck her. Thinking about the spring and the autumn like she would still be here. like she could be here. As much as she wanted to stay, and as much as this house now felt like home, she still was legally another man's wife. What was she to do? She didn't want to go back to Raoul. She couldn't. Not now, not after what they have shared.

She slowly turned around and looked at Erik who had recovered himself enough to stand and put his arm around her waist in front of the window. He knew what she was thinking the moment she turned from the window and saw the sadness in her eye. He would not let that boy destroy his happiness, not again. Not now. Not ever. He will deal with that situation later. Right now he was going to concentrate solely on Christine.

"Don't even think of it until the snow is melted and gone. There is nothing we can do now even if we wanted to, so put it out of your mind."

"I will think of something when the time is right. Right now Paris and all of _society _will be shut up from the storm." She couldn't help notice the sarcasm of the word society but it calmed her nerves just the same. He kissed the back of her neck and pulled her into his arms and held her looking out at the snow. Never had the snow been more welcomed.

They were just standing in each other arms looking out the french doors, when a knock was heard outside the door.

"Master...Master!" an urgent voice obviously one of the servants came through the door.

"Master, there is a gentleman downstairs to see you. I told him that you were not to be disturbed but he barged his way in here and is waiting in the drawing room."

Christine held on to him tightly and looked at him, her eyes begging him not to go downstairs. Who could it be during this storm he thought.

Erik stormed away and picked out clothes from the wardrobe and quickly got dressed.

"If this is Raoul. I'm going to kill him." he thought. "And if this is Nadir." I'm still going to kill him for ruining my very exotic lunch.

Christine watched as Erik once again became the looming opera ghost that everyone feared. There is something very sensual about watching a man dress especially this man. He wears his clothes like armor she noticed. Only she knew the truth, she knew that underneath that very tough exterior was a fragile heart made out of gold that could break at any moment.

She gasped inwardly as she saw Erik pick up his lasso and a pistol. He came over pulled her close to him and kissed her lips like he was going into battle. He said nothing but grabbed his mask from a small table and exited the door.

It wasn't until that moment that Christine even realized that he had not been wearing his mask through the entire morning.

Christine was afraid, but she wasn't entirely sure who she was afraid for.

Please Review and Let me know what you think.


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